It’s been a while since I’ve been to a show as a writer. Normally out shooting as a photographer, I decided to muster up the courage to get out on a Tuesday evening with one of my best friends to see what Yasiin Bey still had to offer this once malleable hip-hop head. The reason for doing so was two-fold; I still have a special place in my heart for ‘real’ hip-hop, and because I’ve been following Mos Def (Bey’s FKA) and his career since the early Black Star days. I’ve always felt personally engaged and interested in what he stands for in his music and that his position and demeanor are both genuine and unique, so I was looking forward to seeing him perform solo. (David and I caught the dynamic Black Star duo at the 2011 Rock the Bells show). For me, the night was a roller coaster of entertainment, enjoyment and disappointment.

It started off with your typical ‘indie’ hip-hop show theatrics – more acts on-stage than originally scheduled, a late-by-design set of performances, and a questionable hype-man who faltered in between sets. The crowd began to BOO as comedian Chris Riggins decided to segregate and separate concert-goers by racially profiling fans. As if he had planned it all along, the ‘host’ called out to the crowd, asking, “Are y’all ready to see some real hip-hop tonight?” The response was not quite what he had hoped, so he decided to single out a fair skinned patron by asking him what his problem was. The man looked confused as he said, “What are you talking about? I’m ready,” while he smiled and put up his hands. (He was one of the few people actually engaged.) When the crowd grew even more silent, the host replied to the young man, ‘Yeah, whatever. My bad, white privilege.’

I only mention this because it is so blatantly hypocritical to bring an enigmatic figure like Mos Def to the Bay Area – who seemingly stands for peace and unity – only to have the hype-man spew out racial innuendos between sets. We’re all one, homie – we’ve all spent our hard earned money to come out on a Tuesday night to see a hip-hop show and hang out together for the evening, not segregate people and exude dominance over the fans because they are without a microphone or stage to defend themselves. It was both disappointing and upsetting. The frustration continued as the clock continued to tick into the night, until 11:30 when Yasiin finally took the stage.

He came out in typical seasoned-MC, ‘way-better-than-expected’ fashion, as he gripped his iconic 50’s microphone and stormed the stage with a smile and swagger. His wordplay and delivery were tight and explosive, as he navigated impeccably between classic hip-hop cuts and his newer material – which relies heavily on vocal falsettos and extensive call and returns. I also have a special place in my heart for MCs who rock the stage solo (Brother Ali, Atmosphere, Kanye, Kendrick), so that also added to my complete enthrallment of his performance. He had officially turned the night around for me.

The energy never really seemed to dip as he fell into the ultra classic “Juicy” cover – announcing, “This is for Brooklyn. This is for Queens,” just before he dropped the first few iconic lines: “It was all a dream / I used to read Word Up! magazine.” Uhh.. that was fresh.

The performance moved along without a pause, until he reached the interlude/halfway point of the show. For me, this is always such a pivotal moment during an artist’s time on stage. It’s easy to come out swinging and get a crowd hyped early on, but it’s another to keep the them fully engaged throughout the performance. Using a variety of energy levels and techniques, he paused for a moment to announce, “Now I’m gonna do what I really want to do. Now I’m gonna do exactly what I want to do – y’all don’t even know what imma do.”

He started his story by dedicating it to the world’s governments – laughing at them and recalling how “funny they are.” He described his experience at the SFO baggage claim as he noticed the “Middle Eastern Respiratory Syndrome” sign that has plagued 22 airports over the course of this year. He chuckled at its innate propagandist properties, as he broke into the elastic “Mr. Nigga,” off his Black on Both Sides album. I smiled. Not only because he found a way to engage the crowd beyond his music, but because he did it in a way that was not egotistical or forcing. His words and message were both calm and collected, seasoned. He chose not to rant, but to communicate on a very humanizing level. I won’t make this review about my political beliefs, but I couldn’t help but appreciate the way he went about conveying his message, seamlessly dropping into more tracks from his most recent albums, True Magic and Ecstatic.

I hate to admit that we left before the encore – we were tired, our 2 drink maximum had worn off, and we had to work the next day. It didn’t matter though, I already had the experience and review engrained in my head. The night was full of frustration and appreciation, and a feeling that getting out on a weekday evening is not such a task, assuming you know what you’re getting yourself into. ‘Real’ hip-hop is alive and well, you just need to know where to find it. Shouts also to Locksmith and Jennifer Johns, who opened the show and gave admirable performances of their own. You can catch Yasiin out on the road with scattered west coast dates over the course of the next few months, or check out his critically-acclaimed side project with Mannie Fresh titled OMFGOD.

*Editors Note: This article has been updated to display the correct name and role of comedian Chris Riggins and opening act Jennifer Johns, and to clarify the correct album for the song “Mr. Nigga”

If a comedienne can’t even joke about white privilege here in America well then that sucks and I need to move to another country ASAP!

Eric Arnold

“we’re all one, homie” — uh, no we’re not, unless you think that what happened to #MikeBrown, #Trayvon, and #OscarGrant could easily happen to you. just making that comment reeks of white privilege, which you seem to have cognitive dissonance over. so let’s see here, you got upset that a black comedian is joking about racism, so you call him racist. Yet you gleefully repeat Yaciin’s use of the n-word like it’s your own private joy come true. Check this out, “homie”: there’s a tradition dating back to Richard Pryor of black comedians using their platforms to make social commentary. if you don’t know that, you’re probably not even qualified to be a critic. Speaking of your lack of qualifications, you called Jennifer Johns “Melina Jones.” and you got the album “Mr. N*gga” appeared on wrong. Sorry Yaciin made you wait longer than you would have liked, but you sound whiney complaining about it. Maybe you should just stick to photography and leave the cultural critiques to those who actually know what they’re talking about.

Scott La Rockwell

Even if the host did call out a white kid and then clown him it’s not really hypocritical considering that one the host Chris Riggins is entitled to his own thoughts, expressions and opinions as is Yasiin and neither has anything to do with the other except they are both black men in the same venue, who happen to both share the same stage for the evening. Black people are not a monolith to assume so would be removing their complexity and their humanity. It is also not hypocritical of the host because the “we’re all one, homie” post racism argument falls apart when you can still be shot dead in the street for no reason other then just being Black in America. So it sucks that maybe some white kid got his feelings hurt and you did as well but if that is worst you can stomach maybe writing reviews about a music and a culture you don’t understand isn’t for you.

Ron Delmaniano

I think the “we’re all one” line referred to the fact that everyone was bound together at the show…all enjoying it together. I don’t think it had anything to do with a racist argument.

Eric Arnold

what’s really interesting here is the author’s views on race (which he may not have fully processed, due to what Franz Fanon identified as cognitive dissonance). he clearly wants a sanitized “kumbaya” version of hip-hop in which nothing is ever said which makes white people feel uncomfortable. this is clearly shown in his reduction of Mos Def as an emcee who “seemingly stands for peace and unity” which completely ignores the lyrical content of “Mr. N*gga,” a song which directly addresses racial profiling. and i quote: “Is there a problem officer?” Damn straight, it’s called race/That motivate the jake (woo-woo) to give chase/ Say they want you successful, but that ain’t the case/ You livin large, your skin is dark they flash a light in your face.”

Note that the author doesnt attempt any analysis whatsoever of the song’s content and theme, nor attempt to link that to the earlier comment by Riggins (which would have at least shown some journalistic acumen). Instead, he says he “smiled” when Yaciin played the song.

So who’s hypocritical? A comedian who attempts to make jokes about white privilege? or a critic who tries to pretend racism doesnt exist while culturally appropriating black culture?

As for the “we’re all one” comment, that’s just a blatant example of utter cluelessness. Does Mr. Critic even check his news feed these days? Sorry, but whites who complain about “segregation”–apparently based on a single comment–at hip-hop shows don’t really deserve a lot of empathy. And accusing the promoter of “racially profiling fans” just shows why reverse racism doesnt actually exist. On top of that, the article is just poorly-written, makes numerous factual errors, and offers more insight into the critic’s vulnerable psyche than it does into Yaciin Bey’s artistry.

i think they call this an #epicfail on the Interwebz.

thesfcritic

Hey Eric,

I think you’re making many valid points, some of which I agree with. I am not interested in debating you, but if you live in the Bay, I’d happily grab a drink with you and discuss the notion of “blackness,” commoditization of hip hop, and the sociological perspective of the “looking gaze.” I will say this. I would full-heartedly welcome a piece by you on this notion of “community,” “race,” and hip hop if you wanted to a platform to discuss it. I don’t think bashing Darryl’s piece is going to achieve your ends, which is to express a difference of opinion and highlight some of the missteps in his perspective. Let me know if you’re interested in doing so. My email is david at sfcritic dot com.

Best,

David

Darryl

Hi Eric,

‘We’re all one, homie’ is a direct reference to everyone in the building being a part of hip-hop culture. We’re all one meaning, ‘we all care enough about being here tonight to support this music and we should all be treated equally.’ The comment felt staged, and it was clear to the audience that the host was just waiting to find the right person to place it on. There was just no place or reason for the comment. The kid was flabbergasted, and so was the crowd. Which is why I mentioned the audience boo’ing – I feel I am merely voicing the overall opinion of everyone there. I’ve been studying and supporting independent hip-hop since I was 12 or 13 years old, so promoting the equality and long-term success of the genre is something I take seriously and care deeply about. While I agree with some of your points scattered all around this thread, I feel the host’s comments actually PROMOTE racial profiling, and only creates more civil unrest among fans. In terms of your *grammatical changes – there are several things you have spelled incorrectly in terms of artist/song names, as well as what I got ‘wrong’ and ‘right,’ so I won’t really get into that. I feel it is my duty as a citizen, as a writer, and as an activist to speak my mind on inequality, no matter what kind of backlash I might receive. Honestly, my feelings weren’t hurt. At all. I stand for equal rights above all, so that is where this article is coming from. In reality, I just want to promote healthy discussion, which hopefully this can become.

Onlyone Elam

Who the fuck are you, mad because your kettle was called black. How the hell you gonna disrespect Bay Area comedic talent, no matter what the joke, it’s still a joke! Mos Def gets up there talking about wrongdoing at the hands of the white man you make it seem like its nothing more than poetry at its best, how confusing is that, I can almost guarantee you a black man or woman applied for your job, just as much qualified as you, but they gave it to you. Don’t act like it doesn’t happen everyday, you probably don’t experience it because you are guess what? White privilege

Darryl

There is obviously a group of people who caught wind of this post yesterday and are intentionally blowing up this thread to be-little me and make me out to be an ignorant white male.. At this point, I can’t really win. We don’t have enough people looking at thread anymore to back me in anyway, as this post is over a week old. I understand how my words could be construed to ignore the priviledge that I, as a white male, have, and I am sorry for not being more careful with my word choice; however, as I’ve said, that wasn’t my use case and to belabor the discussion of privilege or not misses the underlying point, that it was a bad joke. It was made in poor taste and regardless of race, it undermines the true issues around white priviledge by over simplifying the issue to a white kid standing excitedly to see a performer they support–which by no means is white priviledge. There is a time and place and context to the comments you make and no one knew or felt at the time that he was ‘making a joke,’ or that he was a ‘comedian.’

There’s definitely effective ways, and ineffective ways, to provide social commentary. It sounds like this emcee’s was the latter. Also, I’m pretty sure Richard Pryor is rolling in his grave being compared to this rude person.